


Sparring matches

by Dragonphage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, but i can't actually put it in a neat little triangle in the tags, first poly fic ever haha, the pairing isn't necessairly in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:10:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonphage/pseuds/Dragonphage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris and Hawke decide to spar in hand-to-hand combat. Anders is set to watch and treat eventual injuries. It's how it starts anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparring matches

Anders lets out a huffing sigh and settles on a stone step surveying the large lower level floor of the Amell mansion ”I don't see why you feel the need to do this Hawke. And you!” he points at Fenris ”of all people agreeing to it.”

Hawke grumbles noncommitally and Fenris adjusts the wrappings on his hands. “It has been some time since I practiced hand-to-hand, it is a skill I would rather not lose. Hawke may prove to be a worthy sparring partner, though I doubt it.” Anders clicks his tongue and they both ignore the scandalized little squawk from the side. “Fine, just don't break anything, and no serious internal damage I want to leave some energy for the clinic at least.” He is met by two very different noises of agreement. “I mean it!” he adds as the pair start circling each other. Loosesning up muscles and getting a feel of the situation.

There's no line drawn on the floor but they both keep to an invisible ring to the middle, starting slow. Small jabs easily slapped away or dodged. Hawke feints an uppercut and tries for a hook with his left. The fist is caught in an open palm as Fenris twists with the blow and jabs an elbow into his stomach followed by a knee sending Hawke flying backwards. Wheezing for air. “I sincerely hope you were holding back, Hawke.” the man in question doesn't even answer before lunging again. One, two, three blows in succession all blocked and evaded with seemingly no effort at all.

The room fills with the noise of bare feet shuffling against the ceramic tiles, slaps of flesh from blocked blows and small grunts and gasps of effort. If it wasn't so jerky and Hawke didn't focus too much on upper body movement, it could almost look like a dance. Soon enough both men are smiling, Hawke wipes sweat from his brow and Fenris rolls his shoulders. “Come on” Hawke says “don't just be on the defensive, come at me.” Straightening his stance for a second before settling into a different crouch Fenris answers “very well.”

In a single step he's already in range and Hawke barely has time to deflect the right fist and no time at all for the swipe of a foot sending him to the floor. On his back he rolls to evade being locked down and aims for a shin, missing. Still it buys him enough time to get to his feet and block the next two attacks. “Now we're talking!” Realizing he needs to start using foot movement gains him another few moments, surprising Fenris with an open-palmed tap to his forehead as he tries to step within range.

Shaking his head to get rid of the sensation Fenris scowls and jerks forward, dropping into a skid at the last moment. He takes Hawkes feet from under him, sending the large man crashing to the floor before rising like a pouncing cat. This time Hawke has no time to retaliate before his legs are trapped beneath Fenris' surprisingly considerable weight, arm locked behind his back, head pressed against the tiles. Panting and flushed he struggles in vain. Fenris simply drags his arm further up his back and places his other arm over his neck to pin him even more. Close enough to feel the slightly laboured breaths against the hairs of his neck Hawke hisses in pain from the wrenching. “Do you surrender?” Fenris purrs. No answer. Wrenching the arm even harder he raises his voice “Do you surrender Hawke? Answer me.”

After another moment Hawke finally breaks letting out a little whine before shouting “Yes! Yes I give I surrender! Fuck! Ah.”

Letting up the pressure on the arm but keeping him pinned Fenris grins in triumph and chuckles soundlessly. Stealing a glance towards their 'referee' and backup healer stops him short.

Anders is watching, no surprise there but his face. Skin flushed a blotchy pink and red, mouth open, lower lip wettened from licking, or perhaps biting? Pupils blown and utterly focused on Hawkes face still pressed against the floor, cheek smushed and swallowing to avoid drooling all over. If he strains he can hear the slightly heavier breathing. A grunt from beneath him breaks the spell of the moment and hawke is released from the pinning grip. One last glance reveals Anders masterfully hiding his previous expression though some small tells still remain.

Hawke massages his wrenched shoulder and doesn't bother fully getting up from the floor. “Whoo you are really very good! We should do this again...hmm, next week same time?”

Fenris doesn't look up from checking the wrappings again “I have nothing planned.” Unwrapping them as Hawke grins and gets up from the floor with a great heave and cracks his back. “How about you Anders? Up for it?”

Fenris watches him from under his bangs as he seems to mull over the question before giving a theatrical sigh “oh very well, but I keep to the rule about bones and injuries.” Jabbing an accusatory finger.

Hawke raises his hands in a placating gesture “hey, no promises, I'm an all out kind of guy."

“I will endeavour to leave him mostly unharmed if it is truly that important.” Fenris chips in barely missing verbal interruption. It earns him a pouty glare that he completely ignores. He has a theory to test, and if he gets some much needed, albeit slighly less challenging than he'd hoped, training out of it then all the better.

Next week rolls around in a blink and a crawl and when he arrives Hawke and Anders are already there, the former jumping around on his toes and punching air. Anders has the foresight to drag a chair from the library in, complaining about his ass falling asleep last time. “What's the matter Anders? Not enough padding down there?” Hawke waggles his brows and bursts out laughing at the obscene gesture the joke earns him.

Fenris stands off to the side as they banter getting himself ready. Anders' expression from last time flashes before his eyes. He tugs a bit with his teeth at the part around the knuckles, loosening it just a little bit to ease pressure off the digit before experimentally clenching the fist and deciding he's done. Time to put his little plan in motion.

They start off slow to warmp up. Moving in and out of range without acting in either direction. The action, when it comes, is explosive.

Hawke is even more erratic than last time, expending more energy at moves that are ultimately futile in an attempt to gain an advantage. This time it's purely about seeing what works and committing it to memory so he can employ strategy next time. Kicks and jabs fly in a near constant barrage pushing Fenris in circles around the room. Of course he could just retaliate but not yet. A particularly badly deflected blow has Fenris growling as he lunges outwards pushing Hawke back with three quick blows. Hawke stares at Fenris become the hunter and his face splits into a wide grin as he crouches down and readies for impact. The force is enough to knock the breath out of him and he'd laugh if he could. Using the motion he twists and just barely manages to finally knock his opponent to the floor, forcing the air out of him in a huff.

Fenris, who has already foreseen this and allowed it, uses the moment to steal a glance at the man in the chair. With the next breath he realizes the angle is wrong but from what little he saw over Hawkes hulking form it looked like the same expression as last time. Quick as a springtrap he negates Hawkes subpar hold and shifts the advantage, rolling them over. Bracketing his hips in a straddle he puts a flimsy hold on the neck and arms, averting his eyes so he can steal a better glance at Anders from under his fringe. Once again the man's gaze is locked entirely on Hawke, but it doesn't answer the question he's been asking himself. Loosening his grip he allows Hawke to break free and regain a standing position. Still grinning.

One more time he feigns getting overwhelmed, making sure it's in a position with a clear view of the chair. Grabbing Hawkes chin and forcing his head back he checks one more time and lets out a pleased little huff at what he sees. This time Anders is staring at him. He was right. His little game over he makes short work of pinning Hawke thoroughly again. This time with Hawke on his back rather than the stomach, he leans down, eyes gleaming. Hawke speaks first “you got me good this time, I think my ribs are bruised. Anders will be none too pleased.”

Fenris chuckles and leans down further to press his mouth to a rounded human ear and whisper “I beg to differ Hawke. Look at him.” before leaning up again and turning towards Anders with a smirk.

Hawke furrows his brows before turning his head as far as it can go in the hold he's under and his jaw drops open at the sight. Fenris glances between them as Hawke develops a flush that spreads all the way down to his partially exposed chest and Anders realizes he's been caught, his own blush draining from his face.

Back straightening Anders thin, dark brows draw down in a defiant glare. He might've been caught red handed but he will certainly not wither under scrutiny. When nothing more happens he stands and begs farewell leaving the two still on the floor watching after him as he goes. He could swear their combined gazes feel like electricity running down his back, still he does not turn to look as he shuts the door and steps out into the chill hightown evening.

Releasing his hold Fenris allows Hawke to worm out from under him. “What in the name of Andrastes well shaped tits?” he says, rubbing his wrists.

“It appears that the mage enjoyed the show.” Fenris deadpans as he makes to stand. “Yeah, well yeah but...what are we going to do about it?”

“Do about it?” He stops undoing the wrap to level a confused look at Hawke, rumpled and lost in a tailor's position on the floor still. “Yes, do about it. It's not like he's going to just show up next week again with what just happened. Maker! Do you think he thinks we were mocking him?”

Fenris stares bewildered for a while before shaking his head to disperse the useless train of thought and continuing his unwinding “I do not know and I had no definite plans of US doing anything.”  
Indeed what had he expected to happen? Anders grinning like a minx and an eventual evening of debauchery? Pf, he's evidently spent too much time reading Varric and Isabela's writings. Letting out a sigh he turns towards Hawke again “what would you suggest we do?”

In the end they wait to see if Anders really would show up at the now weekly sparring match after all which he, unsurprisingly, does not. The plan after that is simple, seek him out and let him know he needn't be embarrassed, if he is, and maybe seduce him? If possible. A Sound enough plan. Fenris snorts and Hawke pins him with a glare “what, do you have a better idea?” After a moments thought he shifts his stance. “Sadly no.”

  
“Really? I almost suspected you'd vote for calling off the whole thing.” They share a steady look before Hawke grins as if he's told a joke. “No but I guess if you've taken it this far that's not really what you're after.”

  
Not one to be provoked by Hawkes unsubtle jibes he holds his gaze without blinking “and running from where this is going is evidently not what you are planning to do either, so let us go and get this over with.”

  
They go to darktown in silence in the afternoon light before it winks out of their sights as they take the elevator. However their goal is not reached as carta come flooding out of the walls and crevices like ants at Hawkes second step into the darkness. Letting their irritation be known they unsheath their weapons and attempt to cut through them but being only two against a dozen or more rogue dwarves proves more than even the champion and his friend can handle and they are forced to retreat. Fenris goes home to clean his armour and what Hawke assumes will be sporadic bouts of sulking about. Only as he goes to take a spot of whatever liqour Aveline gifted him with after her wedding that's now been standing for many years in its little nook does he remember the cellar exit. Clapping a hand on his brow he groans out his frustration.

  
The passage has not been used since the day he took his sibling to reclaim the will to try and take the place from the filth that had started occupying it. It is dark but blessedly without spiders of any variety big or small.

  
Anders is pottering about brewing potions when Hawke shuffles in the door and closes it softly behind him. The action alone is enough for him to know who's come to visit. “What do you want Hawke? I'm quite busy, as you can see.” he says, gesticulating at the numerous blubbering vials. “I uh,” he starts, scratching a hand down his nape “wanted to talk to you about, last time.”

To wich Anders makes a noncommittal noise and turns to tend to the foul smelling concotion. Hawke realizing he's been left hanging struggles to find anything to say, well actually he knows plenty of things to say but those things are more geared towards the banal and inappropriate and it's not really what he's going for this time. Now he wants to be more... diplomatic, is what he's going for and he's grasping at straws from a garden he has not watered in years.

  
Anders on the other hand has his wildly thumping heart in his throat and is trying to occupy his hands in an attempt to not blurt out the first thing his jumbled mind would think of. From what he remembers seeing in their expressions Fenris had known, and Hawke had not but now they both knew and what did they know exactly? That he was turned on watching them spar? That's actually not a completely unreasonable thing. Somehow he'd blown it completely out of proportion, but still he'd rather not admit to it. He had, granted, been drooling over Hawke for a very long time but Fenris? Well, he had not been quite so unreasonable in later years, bordering on nice in fact, downright cordial! Ooo Andrastes undergarments this could either end very well or very, very badly.

  
Hawke clears his throat, screw it, “because it's a bloody shame you walked out just as it was becoming interesting.” The clinking of bottles stop and Anders turns around slowly, disheveled hairs illuminated by stray rays of light sticking out at all angles, bags under his eyes Hawke's begginning to suspect are permanent and a slight tinge of pink spreading across his cheekbones. Stepping forward Hawke caresses his temple and lowers his voice to a less booming level “Maker but it was amazing, seeing you like that, over me..over US.” and Anders breath hitches at that. Suddenly he's moaning into a kiss he can't remember who started, tongues already writhing against each other sloppy and open mouthed.

  
Hawke tugs at his ponytail, breaking the kiss “I think it's rather unfair to start without him don't you?” but Anders just whines and chases those delicious lips being stopped by that insistend hand in his hair. “As far as he knows you're still upset.” he presses and Anders finally relents, sagging. “So what are we going to do?”

  
Hawke grins and presses a final kiss to his plush mouth before letting go “I think, that we should go to my place, and send our dear Fenris an invitation.”

  
'Went to see Anders. Come to estate. H.' That's what the note says and no matter how many times he reads it he can't discern how the meeting went from the words alone. The estate itself is far enough away that he can't hear anything that isn't disturbingly loud, like Sandals exloding experiments, and though he hasn't been very vigilant he's seen no one leave nor arrive. With a low hum he resigns to going over there, any news is better than sitting around staring at the cryptic note.

  
Entering he is met by an empty foyer, nothing but the crackling fire in the main room. “Hawke?” he shouts, slightly on edge. “We're up here.” Comes a reply from upstrairs. We. There are only bedrooms upstairs in hightown mansions. Not wanting to jump to conclusions he keeps his mind blank as he ascends the stone steps. His mind remains blank as he is faced with the sight in Hawkes bedroom.

  
Having never been there the first thing that strikes him is the deep burgundy of the fabrics adorning it, and on top of the ornately patterned quilt, gold thread in paisley patterns, is Anders, splayed open flushed and quivering, Hawkes fingers in him. He swallows nothing, mouth suddenly gone very dry as Hawke raises his glimmering eyes and shifts the hand just so, making Anders gasp. “Hello. As you can see I managed to patch things up with Anders quite well.”

  
Clenching and unclenching his fists Fenris stands transfixed and does not look away from Anders' bobbing throat. “It took you longer than I had planned to come here, we've been waiting almost an hour.” Punctuated by another shift and yet another gasp from the blond. “I said we wouldn't get further than this without you and here you are” he lowers his head to adress the panting mage “now you can decide which one of us you want first.” The thought sends a jolt through Fenris' core and judging by the drawn out moan coming from the bed Anders is having much the same reaction. “I don't care just, Maker please!” Hawke tuts and pulls his fingers out, absentmindedly rubbing at the excess oil. Anders wails at the loss. “No I'm afraid you're going to have to be specific, but to help I can ask you. Do you want my fingers back?”

  
He positions them at the entrance again and waits. “Yes, NO. No I want...I want.” Anders babbles, swallowing between words. “Do you want Fenris to pound into you as I watch, positively aching with pleasure?” At this Anders' honey brown eyes shoot open to meet Fenris wide forest green ones “Yes, yes. I want you, inside.”

  
Hawke looks up again with a pleased smile “well you heard him, is that what you want?” but the elven warrior is still frozen, pinned by that intense stare. “I don't think he heard you” Hawke says. Anders takes a deep breath and seemingly composes himself a little bit, cheeks impossibly brighter “Fenris for the love of the Maker if you're not going to leave just get IN me and make me come! I've been so close and fingers just aren't enough I want, I want..please!” he all but shouts. It is enough to spur him into action, all previous and current visages of Anders face radiating pleasure dancing in his mind he reaches the bed in two large strides and captures that mouth in a crushing kiss. Breaking it with a wet pop Fenris glances at Hawke who motions for him to go around the bed. Shedding his clothes as he does before crawling upon it while Hawke helps flip a pliant Anders over onto his knees.

Tentatively Fenris touches a hand to the round flesh of his bottom, clearly not lacking in padding at all though a bit scrawny. Anders twitches at the touch before pressing into it with a small moan. It is all the encouragement he needs. Looking towards Hawke who presents him with the phial of oil. He watches Anders hands clench the fabric of the duvet as he coats his fingers and presses them gently at the opening. Anders growls “I'm already..”

  
“I know” Fenris interrupts. “I am simply, making sure.” Anders relents and releases some of the tension in his shoulders “just, hurry.”

 

He presses in two fingers at once eliciting a small whine from the mage, thrusting them with a slight curl twice before twisting his wrist palm down and pulling them out. The muscle is relaxed and clenches on air glistening with the oil dripping slightly in the firelight. Satisfied he coats his own straining cock in the excess before pressing down onto the mages back and murmuring “I'm going to press in now.” He is met with a litany of breathless yes'es that rise in pitch and volume as he guides the head and feels it breach the opening followed by a long drawn out groan echoed by Hawke back against one of the bedposts taking himself in hand as he slides in all the way. Breathing heavily he gives a couple of deep pushes before deciding to grab his chest and hair and pull him up flush against him, back against chest almost sitting up. Pumping his hips in this position Ander's throat is open for all manner of small yips and whines to spill out with every thrust hitting home.

 

Hawke sits up from his slouch kneeling before them and watches their faces intently. Cock standing to attention rubbing against the honey blonde happy trail as he traces his calloused fingers up the narrow ribcage, past the beaded nipples, up the column of the exposed throat and cradling a sharp jaw before he cants his head down for a kiss swallowing the little moans timed perfectly with each slap of Fenris hips against his backside. Not breaking the kiss Hawke trails one hand down to cup Anders bobbing shaft and align the tips together.

 

The added sensation is enough to have Anders throw his head back and wail, nails scraping down pectorals. Once again Hawke mingles the sound with his own verbalisation of pleasure simply at hearing it and Fenris too emits a low growl before nipping at a freckled shoulder and speeding up. Anders comes first with an “oh, Oh, Oh” in an increasingly whining pitch. Hawke follows suit shortly after by sinking down lower and frantically jerking with his head rested against a heaving chest. Fenris keeps going even as the mage sags to rest most of his weight against him until a few moments later he pulls out to eject two small ribbons of semen onto the sheets before readjusting them to a more comfortable position lying down. Nuzzling into the crook of Anders shoulder as they both lay with Hawke loosely curled around their heads.

 

“Do you love me?” Anders asks, the question sounding very loud in the darkness of the room. “I don't know.” Fenris says and adjusts his position around his shoulder. “But I think we both love Hawke.”

“And I love the both of you to bits, sorry for not mentioning it before, I was kind of distracted. Now go to sleep.”


End file.
